


Too Much In the Sun

by beltsquid



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-24
Updated: 2010-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-09 16:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltsquid/pseuds/beltsquid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After abandoning her duty in Alexandria, can former general Beatrix stand the heat in Archades as a Judge Magister?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much In the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astrangerenters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/gifts).



Summers were hot in Archades, and for all the heat and light that a judge magister's armor could reflect into the noonday air, being boxed within that shining bastion of authority was even hotter. There would be no escaping the sun for a few hours yet, however, as she had a parade to attend to: her first duty as Judge Magister of the Archadian Empire. She scanned the crowd for would-be assassins as the entorage made its way through the air on Archades' most elaborate of city-faring aircraft. Sighting a flyer for the Tantalus mummers made her gut twist with remorse, but she swallowed it down and redirected her attention to Emperor Larsa's protection. Sweat trickled down the nape of Beatrix's neck, soaking into her hair, which clung uncomfortably to her skin.

Perhaps Drace was right for cropping her hair short, but Beatrix's long curls were a point of pride, and a piece of the past she could not yet bring herself to do away with. Or rather, she thought as she adjusted her helm for the upteenth time that day, it was a small penance for the life she left behind when she set Save the Queen upon that table and walked away from Alexandria. She had walked and walked until the city grew distant behind her, and the mist grew ever thicker, and in the mist she wandered until she had come upon Ivalice. She offered her sword to Archades, which took it with no question about her origin: the Empire was large, and its subjects varied.

It was hard to adjust to the life as a soldier, rather than as a general, but she was fortunate to be placed under Drace's charge. The woman saw her for what she was: a soldier with experience, strength, and skill. She climbed quickly in the ranks, becoming a lower judge herself.

"I'd petition for you to join our ranks as Judge Magister," Drace said one day. "But the number of positions is limited, and full." She sighed. "Perhaps Bergan will retire once this war is o'er and done. I'd be more comfortable with another woman to watch after Lord Larsa … I trust Gabranth with his welfare of course, but he has been stationed far afield as of late."

"I am truly honored, but I am not sure that I am worthy to wield a sword for royalty again," Beatrix replied.

"You would not be the only judge magister with a checkered past," Drace said with a hint of a smile. "Perhaps we will speak of this further another day, but all the judge magisters have been called to meet with the senate at the request of Lord Vayne."

That was the last she saw of Drace. Details of what happened that day were inconsistent at best, but all the rumors agreed on this: it was Gabranth's blade that ended Drace's life.

After the war ended, there were plenty of judge magister positions to fill, which was how Beatrix came to be wearing Drace's old armor in the noonday sun. She peered over at Gabranth, who stood as a gleaming statue next to the young emperor. Her hands clenched over the hilt of her sword: part of her ached to be at the side of royalty again, to prove herself in light of her failings in the past. The other part cried out for revenge.

* * * * * 

It was some days later, and only by chance that she met him alone in the gardens while observing the roses. Their petals were a brilliant crimson under the harsh and constant noonday sun.

"Judge Gabranth," she said, keeping her voice even and free from emotion.

He stopped in his tracks, taking a small but telling moment to respond. "Aye. Good day to you." He nodded and made his move to leave.

"Drace was a dear friend," Beatrix warned.

Another pause. "My sincere condolences."

"Is that truly all you have to say?" Beatrix barked, removing her helm. She shook her hair free of the bun she wore, letting it tumble down in unkempt, angry curls. "Could you not tell me how she died?"

"That is all I can say on the matter," Gabranth responded. Beatrix did not stop to think. She drew her sword.

"I beg you reconsider," Gabranth pleaded. "Duty requires that I answer steel with steel."

"And I would have you do your duty. I once felled a hundred knights alone. Answer my challenge, if you have the courage."

Gabranth removed his helm as well, and regarded her with brown eyes that hinted at a past regret. She had hoped for that, at least. She did not count on him being handsome. It was a shame that she would likely kill him, she thought; and also a pity that she would not learn the story behind the scar over his eye.

"Am I truly the one you wish to fight," he asked, his hand reaching for his sword.

"Are you not Judge Magister Gabranth?" Beatrix pressed.

"… Yes," He said at length.

Beatrix replied as best she knew how: with her sword. She had abandoned Drace's war clubs for her preferred weapon: a great sword. He responded in turn with his own blade, and when they met each other she could feel the reverberations of the steel down to her bones.

She had not felt this way in a long time.

And so blade met with blade under the unrelenting Archadian heat, each participant tacitly agreeing not to use magick or other form of desperate trickery. It was a test of strength and will: a clash of true warriors.

Beatrix struck at his arm. He twisted away to avoid the hit, losing his balance. With a war cry, she closed in to take advantage, but be made a desperate lunge, widening his stance to regain his balance, and thrust his sword up. She barely had time enough to dodge the strike. It cut away her eyepatch, and gave her a fresh scratch on the scar where her eye had been.

Gabranth held his sword at her throat, and she held hers at the break in his leg armor. With a thrust she could sever his hamstrings, rendering him crippled for life. That would not be much consolation when she bled out like a beast at slaughter, however.

"I gave my word that I would live on to protect and serve Lord Larsa," he grunted. "Do not make me take your life so that I may keep that word."

"I have never met anyone who could match my blade," Beatrix choked. "Who are you?"

"In truth I am Basch fon Ronsenberg," he rasped. "A knight who has twice abandoned his country. Noah—Gabranth—was my brother. 'Twas he that wronged you, not I. Although as he is dead, I suppose that you have been robbed of your revenge."

Beatrix let go of her sword. It fell to the concrete, clattering as it went. She raised her hand and traced the scar over his eye. "If he is dead, then it is no matter now. I am Beatrix. Former general to the kingdom of Alexandria." The pauses in his speech and odd distance in his eyes made sense; it could be nothing but the truth.

"Beatrix," lowered his sword, stooped to the ground, and offered up her fallen eyepatch. "It seems we have much to speak of."

"Much indeed," she agreed, dropping her hand and taking the eyepatch. "Perhaps we should do so in the shade. I have stood too much in the sun, as of late."

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was "Beatrix from FFIX/Basch from FFXII, gen or relationship. Set in whichever universe makes more sense for you to have them interact = Basch as a Pluto Knight serving Queen Brahne, Beatrix as an Archadian judge (during or post FFXII original game). Would they get along? Where would they clash? Ideas: night before a major battle, sparring session, serving as a protection detail, the trouble with protecting royalty."
> 
> I had a lot of fun with this prompt, even if Drace ended up taking things over a bit. It felt _right_, though, so I kept it in.


End file.
